


long and short of it

by WhimsicalSparky



Category: Project DIVA (Video Games), Vocaloid
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Angst, Based on a Vocaloid Song, Drama & Romance, Dreams vs. Reality, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Horror, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, KaiLuka, KaiMei - Freeform, KaiMiku, Kailen, LenMikuRin, Lenku, Love Triangles, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, MeiLuka, MikuKaiMei, MikuLen, More Pairings to Come - Freeform, Multi, Negitoro, Project Diva Modules, Protective Siblings, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Psychopaths In Love, RinKu - Freeform, RinLenMiku, Romance, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Sibling Rivalry, Sociopath Len, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Twincest, Yandere, better Google it in case of confusion, expect a lot of things here, lenrin - Freeform, many of these are unconventional, rinlen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-27 10:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14423919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalSparky/pseuds/WhimsicalSparky
Summary: Current chapter: She can see them growing tired of her. She really doesn't deserve them for what she does to them. — terekakushi parka blue/common miku/alparka l (kaito/miku/len). / project diva modules. oneshot collection.





	1. self-control

.

case 1. self-control

strange dark/innocent

"It's too easy to crush her."

.

.

.

It's too easy to crush her.

It's so easy that he doesn't have the heart to do it, the desire choking him instead. Because it's easy to grab the nearest knife and simply plunge it into her, an explosion of red soaking his face and shirt, he doesn't do it. At the same time he wants to kill her. He swipes the blade in his palms, and grins the same deranged smile he's known for.

How funny it is, that outsiders think he is a lost child without a grip in reality. How deadly wrong they are.

Traitors really are oblivious.

Well, not her. She knows who he is. She keeps constant vigilance despite having her head turned to the dying sunset half of the time; the orange sunlight glimmers on her creamy skin, the bandages hiding the wound from his sight - a bone-white disappointment.

He wants to see what is scarring her both physically and psychologically. He wants to use it to torment her and make her break and cry.

Whenever he approaches her while replacing his sneer to a saccharine smile, everything around him blurs into a kaleidoscope. Colors shift, spin and crash, and he wants to laugh, laugh, laugh - but he doesn't. It's not time for this. His nature doesn't allow him to declare his victory before it's already too late for them. The shadows hiss behind him, tempting.

He sits on the hospital bed, close enough to feel her thigh on his back, and touches her hand. She visibly doesn't react, but he did feel the jolt of her pinky, grazing his palm. She is shrapnel and nauseating regret, what makes him doubt his judgment. Is she really a traitor? Is she something like him? The questions spin.

He says, "How are you doing, my darling?"

Her expression hardens, eyes narrowing to a sharp edge of a dagger. "What do you think?" she snaps, and he picks up her displeasure gladly. She doesn't turn to him.

A chuckle deep inside his throat rumbles. This is the side of her that makes him doubt, a side which would pounce onto him and slash his neck open with her nails. Simmering rage right beneath the skin, in the pit of her stomach. And God, how he wants to snatch it and store inside a jar and watch it struggle and snarl.

Instead, he smiles. "You're wonderful - you are recovering wonderfully, my darling Innocent. My darling. My dear, sweet Innocent." He answers, feeling honey drip down his jaw with every word. It's sickening. He hates honeyed words.

She doesn't react. She doesn't even glance at him once. He takes her hand in his own and squeezes.

.

.

Strange Dark most certainly doesn't love Innocent, and she shares the feeling. Yet the catch is that, sometimes, he does love her.

The memory of him kissing her evokes disgust, though he refuses to forget. He can't explain why. There's something angry and fond in the act of clashing teeth and dancing tongues, like a spark within a storm cloud before it's shot down as lightning.

He loves it. He hates it.

He wants to have his breath taken away by her. He wants to shove her away from him.

It has Dark wanting to grab a mallet and crush her skull into a bloody pulp as punishment for touching him - even though it makes him a hypocrite as he's typically the one who starts the fire.

He is like this, and he doesn't deny it. He wouldn't hide the truth, for nobody would believe in an accident. Blood in his hair, malice in his smile. Sometimes he catches himself licking his lips absent-mindedly, after the taste of blood that isn't there - her blood. He wonders how Innocent's blood tastes like.

Blades are always kept away from them, but he can find something. There's more ways than one to kill somebody without weapons.

.

.

In public, he's leaning on her shoulder and holding her hand in a cheap imitation of a caring lover.

Spacy Nurse passes by, and her soft smile lingers, never daring to interrupt the adorable moment. Everyone else must not care.

When nobody can witness to this moment, Dark lets his smile widen cheek to cheek. It splinters, teeth gleaming. He tightens his grip in her hand, his anxious heart in his throat, and eagerly waits for her to scream.

It doesn't come.

.

.

"I tried to kill myself."

"Oh. Is that so?"

Innocent flinches, and Dark arches an eyebrow. He grits his teeth. Both of them know that he isn't here to say shallow words of comfort. Nothing is okay. A suicide attempt only happens when everything is falling apart and reality shows itself to be harsher than you think.

He doesn't care, though he can sympathize. His fingers trace the bandages covering his left wrist - a small reminder of his near-death experience. A beautiful yet terrifying moment. A wound that wasn't caused by him, but for some reason he really did consider surrendering himself to that cold embrace.

His fingers tense. How dared he want to die. It was too soon. He has a mission to complete, and like hell the shadows would let him rest before he got rid of that girl.

"May I ask why, my darling?" he asks after a minute of silence. He really doesn't care whether she tried to kill herself or not; it's not his business. But whatever. He wants to be entertained.

She averts her eyes, bites her lip, squirms in the bed. He watches her hesitate as much frustrating as it is, emotions stirring in his chest. Repulsive. He wants these things gone.

He glances around them - the room empty as always - and focuses on her neck, wondering how easy would it be to wrap his fingers around that delicate thing and crush her windpipe. He's infinitely stronger than he looks; a girl with an injured neck and nonexistent strength wouldn't do much to stop him. This would be so easy.

Too annoyingly easy.

He likes challenges. He loves when his victims struggle and fight and scratch his face desperately, hoping to make him flinch away and give them time to flee. A last breath before he loses his patience and digs his fist through their chests. It's fun. He loves to destroy their hope of surviving his attack with his bare hands.

Where's the challenge in this?

And at the same time he wonders if she's like him. These dull blue eyes reflect anything but a sane mind. And it's lovely. They intrigue him. He often fantasizes about them slaughtering traitors and laughing among the mutilated bodies. He'd heard she tried to kill her love interest because he was with another girl, and the fantasy of her stabbing somebody repeatedly with a knife sends shivers down his spine. She must look beautiful in red.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Dark says, something like concern lacing his voice.

Getting her to answer him is irritating. Does she wants him to coax her into speaking, like an empty-headed lover would do? She likes to torture him, doesn't she? Her silence annoys him.

He starts to consider that the homicide attempt was the cause of her suicide attempt - probably seeing her darling drowning in blood and choking on air had snapped her out of her madness-induced trance, and she tried to atone by taking her own life. Looking at her face, a charred mask of conflicting emotions, seems to confirm his theory.

Dark never got to meet a classical, stereotypical yandere before. How disappointing it is to find her after her rampage. He would've loved to watch her crumble and screech her pains to the world, and tempt her into surrendering herself to insanity.

What a waste, he muses, that she is too broken to even spit an angry response.

.

.

It's uncomfortable, the way she has wormed into his being so effortlessly and refused to leave. He thinks about these feelings, imagining them as roots of a parasitic plant feeding off his soul, and his heart quakes. It has been like this for weeks. This thing urges him to see Innocent, even if just once, and touch her cold, cold hand. Even if she doesn't respond, even if she glares at the horizon as he tightens his grip or brushes his lips on her skin in a delicate kiss.

As the nurse pointlessly tries to convince him to eat, he wonders if plastic knives are sharp enough to pierce his chest and tear these feelings apart.

.

.

She seems too demure to his liking.

Her bandages are gone, the scar a reminder of tragedy. Spacy Nurse pats her back, encourages her to keep living, and grins once she sees him. He healed a week ago, having come only to see his new darling. (Honestly he couldn't care whether she's dying or riding away to the horizon with her Prince Charming, but she had grown on him; this wretched bitch, how dare she?)

The yellow wristband covers the horrendous reminder of his near-death experience. He wants it gone, he likes to look at the scar and remember his moment of weakness (the Court would forgive him, but never forget that their Destroyer almost let himself die), but keeping this is a sort of advantage. Everyone thinks he has gotten better. Everyone thinks he is becoming more sociable.

Yeah, right. Keep wishing, fools.

Innocent is little more than the husk he'd met. The eyes are as dull and vacant as ever, white replaced by a silky black dress with purple laces. It flutters at her knees.

Spacy giggles a, "Take good care of her, Strange Dark," in his ear, and walks away. This time, his lips split into a creepy, mind-scarring smile. Oh yes, he would take very good care of Innocent, though it wouldn't be the way Spacy was thinking of. His eyes wander to her neck again, and he feels an all-consuming, vampiric need to lick that scar and bite it and tear it open once more, flooding his mouth with her crimson blood.

Innocent isn't as innocent as her name implies. She's a tiny, insignificant creature at the gaping maw of a hungry predator, not afraid of death. "Don't you dare come any close to me." She hisses. Her eyes narrow, glint with anger. He's surprised. "I went through hell here. If you dare bite this cursed scar just for your sick satisfaction, I'll gorge your eyes out."

"I would love that." Dark laughs. Although her threat would never meet its objective, he must say he is amused. He doesn't doubt of her - it doesn't mean he cares. Having his eyes gorged out by this girl's nails, his blood painting her shiny nails... he would certainly love that.

(To be rid of this chemical curse of insanity and unquenchable thirst for blood, he would love that. He wants nothing more than leaving his paradichlorobenzene-coated cage.

He yearns to be free.)

"You're disgusting." She sighs. He laughs again, doesn't answer.

He dares and takes her hand against her will, tightening till she hisses in pain. She shakes her hand around, trying to remove his, before her free hand cuts through air and strikes his cheek mercilessly. The sound reverberates. He flinches, but his grip is iron. He can almost cackle at her pathetic attempt. She tries and tries and tries again, then gives up - his triumph.

There is nobody to witness her furious desperation. No traitors to interrupt him, to keep him from corrupting another.

She has potential, he can see it.

He can corrupt her, if he so desires - and he does want it.

"Come, my darling Innocent. It's time to go." He says, tilting his head at the doors. The smell of rubbing alcohol and disease and lack of hope has burned his nostrils far too long; he prefers a graveyard, with its reeking of rotten carcasses, death and damp soil, over this. It's like everybody is walking on the tightrope of life and death, unsure whether they will reach the other side alive, or fall and be crushed under the weight of their wounds and illnesses. He hates uncertainty.

Innocent protests weakly at first, her glare shining with a sliver of hope that she will frighten him. He's unfazed. She eventually realizes this, and follows him despite herself. She even reciprocates the desperate hold. Dark's heart falters. He swallows thickly, not daring to express emotions over it.

A few people pass by them as they walk towards the exit. Rather than frightened looks or vicious glares, he sees suspicious glances here and blank faces there, even some fleeting smiles. Beneath a bored expression he feels a sneer tingling, his inner voice chuckling at the realization.

Maybe a bit of self-control isn't all that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey. this is garbage and nobody cares to my shitty pd headcanons and pairings, but im delivering a collection of pd oneshots anyways bc i suck :'''D
> 
> the lots of Vocaloid tags are because there will be several module pairings. i may take suggestions, if you have any, but anyways :3


	2. numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can see them growing tired of her. She really doesn't deserve them for what she does to them. — terekakushi parka blue/common miku/alparka l (kaito/miku/len).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meh, don't look hard into this. it is self-indulgent and the wtf just happened feelings are dangerously high, so pls don't ask me. i don't know man
> 
> sidenote. i'll be using lots of unpopular modules in this compilation, so i recommend you to Google whichever module you don't know. for example, Terekakushi Parka Blue is a Kaito module featured in Embarrassment-Hiding Adolescence. just saying

chapter specific warnings. depression, self-hatred, attempt on self-harm, a very confusing plot.

* * *

.

case 2. numb

terekakushi parka blue/common miku/alparka l

"She can see them growing tired of her. She really doesn't deserve them for what she does to them."

.

.

In the veil between reality and fantasy there is the world she lives in and is trapped within, unfeeling.

"Ari, you are here, aren't you?" he whispers and cups her cheeks, then smiles brightly. "Oh, Ari. I've missed you so, so much. Where were you all this time?"

"Somewhere." She simply answers. "What about you, Alparka L? How's your sister?"

He chuckles. "She's gotten better, thanks for asking. I'm sure she will appreciate your concern." His mint green eyes shine with passion. "You're so beautiful, Ari. I love you."

His lips brush against hers, feather-light. It lasts a moment of thought. He says it again - those three words with questionable meaning - and brings her to his chest. A warm embrace. He says he loves her.

She doesn't say it back.

.

.

Common Miku curls into a ball in a field of nothingness. Glass shards flicker rainbows at her eyes, to her annoyance, floating above her where she can't reach them and break them.

The Common World is a purgatory - she scratches her wrists, digs her nails deep into her arms until she feels the sting, but when she goes to see the damage, there's nothing to behold, or spit at, or cry over. Nothing, nothing, nothing. It's useless and worthless, just like her.

She can see Alparka L searching for her, inside the full-body mirror she comes through. He's calling for her with his smooth tenor. He calls for her - Ari, Ari, Ari... - but she won't come to him. She leaves him wanting. Burning. Wishing he could break that barrier between their worlds and find her and never let her go.

She must make him want her, even if she's worthless and would never deserve his or anyone's love, because he's more caring when she comes back if he's starving.

If not, he will simply grow tired of her.

.

.

His eyes gleam an indigo adoration. She melts into his arms; she doesn't think she belongs here because she doesn't. The place she belongs to is an eternal, sickly white hell where rainbows mock her and blades carve regrets into her skin. This is a safe haven and nothing else.

A temporary, easily breakable safe haven.

"Have you been crying, Common?" Terekakushi Parka Blue asks in lieu of nothing. A tear hasn't escaped from her eyes in ages. Why is he assuming this?

"No, I haven't. You're delusional." Common Miku breathes. Grips his shirt. This means nothing to him, she's sure of it, but she wants to give it a meaning in his vocabulary. She wants to leave her mark in his world, so he won't forget her so easily.

He laughs. "Sharp as always, huh?" She sighs; he's right, but she won't give him the pleasure of hearing her admit. He doesn't sound bothered, though.

She goes back to the mirror.

.

.

She pulls herself apart effortlessly. She wants to shut everyone out, even though being alone is exactly what she doesn't want to be. She isn't crying. Why would she? It won't change anything.

Her voice never reaches anybody. A string of apologies and questions and memories snaps into gibberish, garbled and distorted as computer program glitching up before it crashes. But she doesn't crash - she breathes into her hands and goes to sleep.

Blue wishes her goodnight somewhere, his thoughts then drifting to his younger brother whose face is shared with Alparka L. Common Miku wonders how does it feel to have a sibling - would her situation be any different? Would she stop pitying herself? She's so egotistical that she wants to break herself into pieces until she's nothing.

Would she feel better if she disappeared?

The Common World makes sure she doesn't. She must atone for crimes she doesn't remember doing. For all she knows, it could've been done in a past life.

Luckily she finds anomalies in this purgatory.

.

.

Alparka L is relentless; he savors the taste of her lips, like a thirsty man who finally put his hands on a glass of water. Stardust scatters and glows at her ankles with the glory of fallen stars. His lust destroys the floor under her feet, and his grip in her waist alone stops her from floating aimlessly in the space.

For someone who wears an alpaca costume as everyday clothing, he's surprisingly passionate. He is no child; he's certain to show her this when he pins her down and kisses her again and again. Deprived of such intimacy for so long, she expected him to act this way - and besides, she wants him to kiss her. "Excuse me." He whispers before taking her scarf off, and marks her neck as well.

Common Miku strategically moans in his ear, feeling him tremble. It doesn't make her feel beautiful as he says. It brings her some satisfaction, an illusion of being loved by at least one person despite this won't last.

She knows the mirror will break one day. Then, she will find another to fill the growing void in her heart temporarily before leaving and repeating the cycle.

She is jaded. She can't stop, it's beyond her control. It is the only thing stopping her from going insane.

He draws back. "I would like to continue, but Bunny Ears and Wooly Wear would hear us. You... you don't mind if we stay like this, do you, Ari?" he averts his eyes, bashful. How cute.

"You worry too much." She says matter-of-factly.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

She's suddenly aware of their compromising position - the buttons of his clothes partly open, bare chest gleaming with sweat, her shirt pulled up to expose her midriff - and swallows thickly. His face is red as a ripe apple.

It would do no good if they are caught.

She thinks of sliding off, but he's quick to notice her intentions and doesn't let her move a centimeter away from him. He kisses her forehead. "Stay here tonight, Ari. With me. Please."

He's doing it again. He's begging her to stay.

"I can't." She narrows her eyes, irritated at him for asking this again. "You know I can't. Quit your wishful thinking, Alparka L." She is sharp, she is merciless. He's foolish for risking these little moments if he's so in love with her.

He whimpers, his bottom lip trembling. He looks hurt by her words and the truth alone. Will he cry? She could almost mock him for acting childishly. Something in her urges her to spare him a night. A night can't be enough to exhaust him of her.

She looks deeply into his eyes - there is desire, hurt and affection in that viridian sea. It's like he's worshipping her with his gaze.

He's moonstruck.

"Very well, I will stay." He gasps at her answer in disbelief. She continues, "I've been cruel to you - using you to my pleasure when I'm hurting you emotionally. That's not how I should treat you when you're so caring to me, so please accept my sincerest apologies-"

He interrupts her by smashing his lips onto hers, and parts away before she can react to the bruising kiss. "Don't apologize, Ari. You are not cruel nor are hurting me. I'm being selfish for asking you this when I know you must go, but I'm immensely happy for hearing this."

His happiness is said to be contagious. It fails to touch her heart, unfortunately.

.

.

She slaps herself. She pulls on her own pigtails. She slams her head against the white wall. She screams.

Pain is fleeting here.

It hurts her more for not knowing why she's here. Or why she's tired. Or why she acts no better than a needy prostitute, except that there's no money involved in what she does, only vulnerable souls and her hungry black hole of a heart.

And she hates herself. She hates everything. She wants to disappear and never bother Alparka L or Blue any longer. They're so amazing, so beautiful outside and inside, not deserving a thing that isn't truly human. What is she, anyways? Just a figment from somebody's imagination that was granted life in a parallel world.

Why is she in Common World, then? She doesn't know. She wants to cease her existence.

She is jaded. She feels nothing. She's nothing.

.

.

She can see them growing tired of her. She really doesn't deserve them for what she does to them.

Common World is timeless. She has done this so many times before that she can bring herself to easily turn her back and never go back - and yet, she can't, she can't. They are the only sources of light in her dull, uninteresting life. Why does she treat them so poorly?

They must secretly hate her.

.

.

"Blue, why do you love me?" she asks one day, the gnawing self-hatred tearing her apart. It's been months and they haven't grown bored yet, and she can't understand why.

He rubs his chin and shrugs. "I don't think I have a reason. I just do."

"Liar. Tell me the truth."

"Alright, so... you have something in you that draws me in. Something special, charming. I'm not sure what, maybe your cryptic way of talking and the mystery that surrounds you or how gorgeous you look when genuinely happy."

A lump forms in her throat. She's suffocating. Anything but this. Anything but happiness, because happiness doesn't last within her. Why, why, why-

(Why can't happiness last?)

"Oh. I see." She nods, satisfied.

An hour later she enters the mirror and leaves.

.

.

Everything is okay. It must be okay.

She wants to believe that they will stay and they love her. She fools herself into believing. If she doesn't, she might have a breakdown.

Alparka L loves her. Blue loves her.

Right? Right.

She is loved, she is loved. She is. She believes it. It's true. She is loved.

They love her.

(They don't. They hate her. They wouldn't ever love a worthless thing without personality, without past, without a heart to share. She's disgusting, ugly, worthless. Smoke-filled eyes and knotted, dirty hair. Unsightly.

They hate her.

...Right?)

.

.

The mirrors are cracking. She will see them slowly fade away from her little imaginary country filled with hope, and she will be alone again - that's what the white walls, the flashing rainbow lights and the blades tell her.

Someone like her is replaceable - this is what she hears resounding in the ward room. She thinks she's in an asylum, though she knows she isn't. But purgatory is a sort of asylum all the same. An asylum for indecisive sinners.

She feels like she's going insane.

And maybe she is.

.

.

On a snowy night they're enjoying each other's presence, sharing warmth as Alparka L likes to cuddle and her clothes aren't enough. He is as soft as a pillow. She nearly mistakes him to Blue, but Alparka L is fire. He's fire, burning brighter and higher, engulfing her in his flames but never hot enough to harm her.

She hears his heart jump and shake inside his chest, drumming its very special melody, something fiery and excited. Beautiful. Hair like morning sun, eyes like gems. When she strokes those golden strands or that pale neck, he shivers, moans or whimpers.

She definitely does not deserve him.

"I love you, Ari." He says and means it. (Right? He means it. He loves her, right? He does. She's stupid for not believing him. She's stupid and deserves to die. To disappear- but he loves her. He does. Right?)

She decides to humor him. "Me too." Just once will she say this to him, so he better remember and treasure the memory.

.

.

The Common World will take everything from her. Her memories, her feelings, her very soul...

What's left for her, then?

(They are still waiting for her.)

.

.

While Alparka L is bright, passionate fire, Blue is water. Flowing, calming water.

Sometimes she wishes to drown in his waters, never to be seen, never to be found, a (she doesn't dare to say "beautiful" because death is never beautiful, nor is she) corpse sinking into the murky depths. He gives a calm smile, and she claws at her neck, struggling for air. Her lungs collapse. She's still alive, however.

"You are not okay." He states in that all-knowing tone and a concerned face. It stabs her in the stomach. Why is he always right? Is she this easy to read?

She snorts anyways. "You know nothing about me. How can you be sure?" when she's with him she is defiant. Sharp and annoyed. It's necessary for balance.

The words reverberate. He touches her cheek and chuckles, "I just know."

She wishes he could be wrong for once.

.

.

If Alparka L is fire, she is ice.

If Blue is water, she is lightning.

Monotony comes from a unchanging routine. People with too similar interests, unlike what romanticized stories like to tell, don't last together. It gets boring. It tires. They cheat and leave.

Fate is not something you should thank for. Fate is sadistic. Fate's favorite entertainment is to laugh at people's misfortune.

Red strings are instruments of manipulation.

Soulmates are fated to die tragically every single time, until one realizes the trick and cuts off the string, finally freeing themselves from madness.

A love like this is nothing but desperation. A love between broken people. Love between soulmates isn't true love.

She muses all of this as she sneers at the glass shards. She definitely isn't Alparka L's soulmate, nor Blue's - she's safe from Fate's cruel jokes. This doesn't change the fact that she is trapped here.

.

.

The chains are invisible but there. She can feel them. She has been trying to free herself for years pointlessly. She thought of giving up, but to give up is to declare Fate's victory. To hell with it. She won't give up. Even if it's useless to fight, she won't give up.

Alparka L calls for her through his mirror again - Ari, I love you, come back to me, Ari, please, I need you, I love you, I do - while Blue traces the blooming frame of his own - you'll be okay, Common Miku, really, I'm here for you, I'll always be here, don't cry - but she closes her eyes, letting the truth sink in.

She doesn't deserve them.

But maybe they can help her somehow.

.

.

"Ari, are you okay? Is something bothering you?"

"N-no, no. I'm okay, really."

"You... you aren't lying to me, are you? Ari, you can trust me, so tell me: are you truly okay? Are you? I can help you. Tell me."

"..."

The mirror swallows her whole, her answer never reaching him.

But no. She is not okay.

.

.

"You shouldn't hate yourself for being different. Being normal is not desirable all the time. Being normal is boring."

"Society begs to disagree. I'm a unsightly freak and you know it. You're a fool for loving me."

"Haha, I don't remember telling you that I love you."

"It's written all over your face. I don't need your mind-reading black magic to know that."

And so the mirror claims her, his amused laugh echoing in the void.

He is such a fool.

.

.

One day she opens her eyes and breathes.

Something is different.

.

.

This is it. This is the end.

They met. They met, and know what she has been doing in months. Cheating, cheating. Lying. Their hidden hatred comes to light.

And she's... not scared. Only sad. She will lose them, too. She will never see them again.

This hurts more than previous times.

What is this?

Alparka L is seething. Fire in his eyes, in his chest. Sheer, primal wrath. "It's you, right?! You're the one hurting Ari! How dare you? I'll kill you for that!" he explodes at Blue's face, grabbing the taller boy's collar and shaking him around.

"I did nothing to her." Blue shoves Alparka L away. Nothing in him burns. Rage flows through the current and crashes as a waterfall onto the sea. Its force, however, doesn't affect the entire sea - he's angry but keeping himself as calm as possible, not losing control.

She wants to run. She wants to get away from this. (How awful she is for wanting this. She should face them, not run away. She's a coward.)

She's close to the mirror, ready to break it.

(There must be a way to stay here.)

"Common, what are you doing?" Blue asks in confusion. "Don't go. I didn't know you-"

She can't face them.

(She should. She must. Doesn't she love them?

What is she doing?)

"Ari, wait!" Alparka L screams, panicking. She pictures him holding out his hand. "Don't go. Please don't go. Was it me? I... I won't do anything if that's what you want, so..."

He always wants to please her in any way.

(She loves them. She does. They love her and she loves them.

And she will flee just like this, as if they don't matter?

What kind of monster she is?)

"Ari, are you... crying?"

"You... you're crying. You're really crying. B-but why?"

Common Miku touches her cheek; it feels wet. Huh, she's crying. She's forgotten how to. So, she's crying.

(Maybe there is some hope.

Maybe she isn't so unnatural. She isn't worthless.

Maybe, maybe...

She can...)

"What are you..."

"Wait! What are you doing?!"

She conjures a hammer in her hands, and grins. This is it. She will put an end in this. Maybe there's hope for her to leave the Common World. The whiteness mocked her numbness, her incapacity of feeling after so long.

But she's crying.

This shouldn't be possible, but it is.

(They love her.

She knows. Now she knows.)

She loves them.

She looks over her shoulder. "I won't be gone forever, so don't worry. I must... dominate a parallel world before I come back. After this, I will stay here with you, Alparka L and Blue. Forever."

Alparka L gasps and begs her not to go. Blue blinks and demands clear answers. She smirks.

This is the end.

(But not the end of them. It's the end of her imprisonment.

Goodbye, Common World.)

"It's okay, everyone. I'll be okay. See you later."

She jumps into the mirror.

It breaks behind her.

.

.

Glass shards no longer hold rainbows within them; colors burst and splatter around in a pattern of madness. White melts away, ice turns into water, lightning strikes and fire bursts from the impact.

Above it all, the chains crumble into dust.

She's standing tall.

.

.

In the veil between reality and fantasy there is the world she used to live in. Now, it's a colorful place where she is its master, no longer a prisoner.

.

.

"A-Ari... Is that you? Am I dreaming again? Ari, are you here?"

"How's your sister, Alparka L? I've heard she's gotten sick again."

He doesn't answer her; he pounces onto her, kissing her hungrily.

.

.

"Ah, you are back. So, you're not one of breaking promises."

"Did you expect me to never come back? I thought you loved me."

He laughs.

.

.

The Common World lays in ruins, in splashes of color and mirrors reflecting her triumphant smile.

And she is loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *alparka l calls common miku 'ari' bc of her original name: "arifure miku". i thought of giving her a cute nickname :)
> 
> long and confusing as hell. im so sorry for posting shit rather than something nice and flowy and heartwarming ;;


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